


First Death

by fab_fan



Series: Drunk Words - Sober Thoughts [8]
Category: Motherland: Fort Salem (TV)
Genre: Angst Free, Domestic Fluff, Evil Parents, F/F, Fluff, Hangover, Idiots in Love, No Angst, One Big Happy Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:55:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24998668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fab_fan/pseuds/fab_fan
Summary: A loud crash reverberated throughout her entire body, rattling her teeth and echoing like a jackhammer in her head.Another crash followed by a bang felt like an explosion in her mind. A giant hammer smashed against her skull while tiny little gremlins stabbed at the backs of her eyes with gremlin sized sporks.With a pitiful groan, Henley shifted on the couch, the nerves in her neck pinching as she tried to turn her head and hide her face in the cushions.
Relationships: Raelle Collar/Scylla Ramshorn
Series: Drunk Words - Sober Thoughts [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1755784
Comments: 23
Kudos: 246





	First Death

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't leave you all hanging with that last installment, now could I? 
> 
> Takes place after First Drink, First Love.

BANG

Scylla winced as the cupboard door slammed shut, the pans rattling inside. The tea rippled in her mug with each slam of a drawer and smash of a lid. She took a sip and cradled the warm ceramic in her hands, “You’re going to break something, Rae.”

Raelle shoved a hand in a cupboard, shuffling the pots around and making sure they hit each other and every inch of the wooden cabinet, “No, I’m not.”

Scylla shook her head and rested her elbows back on the counter she was leaning against, “Is this really necessary?”

“All part of the process, babe.” Raelle swung the door wide open before roughly jamming it closed.

“Uh huh.” Scylla shot her a look, “Is this because you want to teach her a lesson or because you’re still anxious from last night.”

Raelle popped up from her crouched position by the oven, “I’m not anxious.”

Scylla tilted her head, “You didn’t sleep at all.”

“Had a beautiful woman in my bed.”

“You kept checking on Henley.”

“Wanted to make sure she hadn’t run off again.”

“To go pick those flowers?” Scylla caught her arm as she tried to walk by, “Hey, come here.”

Raelle sighed but let herself be dragged into her. Scylla set her mug down and wrapped her arms around her wayward spouse. Raelle’s hands came to rest on the edge of the counter on either side of the former necro, her shoulders releasing tension as Scylla scratched her back.

“It’s ok,” Scylla spoke softly.

“I can’t believe she did that.”

Scylla’s eyebrow quirked, “Really? Your daughter?”

Raelle huffed, “Why is she my daughter when she gets in trouble?” A pout, "Dark hair and trouble is your thing."

Scylla gave her a look before replying, “Need I remind you about the time you yelled at my dorm in the middle of the night because you were drunk and wanted a booty call?”

“Wasn’t a booty call.” Raelle grumbled. 

Scylla kissed her cheek, “She scared me, too. But, she’s safe.”

“For now.” Raelle frowned.

Scylla kissed her other cheek, “Don’t be too hard on her. She learned from the best.”

Raelle squinted at her.

Scylla chuckled and kissed the tip of her nose, “She’s in love.”

Raelle exhaled, “She just met the girl.”

“As if you weren’t completely in love with me the first time we met.” Scylla teased.

“Us Collars are suckers for a pair of beautiful eyes.” Raelle angled her head, mouth brushing the curve of her jaw, 

“Henley did tell you all about her pretty eyes.”

“So pretty.” Raelle nipped her earlobe. 

Scylla’s hands dipped down, slipping under the cotton of her shirt and sliding across smooth skin.

“You sure are the prettiest gal around, Mrs. Ramshorn-Collar.” Raelle drawled, tasting the shell of her ear.

“Careful,” her fingers tickled the edge of Raelle’s jeans, “I’m married.”

“Sure do hope she treats you right.”

“Have you met my wife?”

“Have you met mine?” Raelle caught her laugh in a kiss. 

Long and slow, both their hearts soared at the tender embrace. Even after all this time, Raelle felt every single nerve-ending in her body tingle and her mind calm.

As they gently broke apart, their foreheads came together.

“Don’t be too hard on her.” Scylla whispered, “If she’s like you, she’ll be hungover and grumpy the entire day.”

“I don’t get hungover. Or grumpy.”

“You’re grumpy because your late night booty call was interrupted by your daughter.”

“You’re so sassy, and we didn’t even have sex”

“I love you.”

Raelle rolled her eyes as she pulled back, slowly breaking away, “Love you, too.” She moved toward the pantry, “I’m still going to annoy the hell out of her.”

“I know. Just, don’t break the glasses on the top shelf. They’re Abigail’s, and she’ll kick your ass.”

“She shouldn’t leave her stuff here.”

I’m sure you’ll tell her that the next time you talk.”

"I could take her."

"My big strong soldier who couldn't even carry her daughter upstairs to her room?"

"I'm retired!"

"I miss those early morning pushups."

“Whatever.”

SMASH!

* * *

Too bright.

She was dying.

This was hell.

She was dying, and she was in hell.

A loud crash reverberated throughout her entire body, rattling her teeth and echoing like a jackhammer in her head. 

Another crash followed by a bang felt like an explosion in her mind. A giant hammer smashed against her skull while tiny little gremlins stabbed at the backs of her eyes with gremlin sized sporks.

With a pitiful groan, Henley shifted on the couch, the nerves in her neck pinching as she tried to turn her head and hide her face in the cushions.

A third bang followed by a slam answered her attempts to die in peace.

Slowly lifting a hand to her face, she rubbed at her eyes, and worked her jaw.

Her mouth felt like someone had shoved an entire box of cotton swabs inside, and they all tasted like the most horrible thing known to man.

Or mushrooms.

She hated the taste of mushrooms.

Her momma thought it was hilarious.

Coughing against the desert that conveniently appeared on top of her tongue and in the back of her throat, Henley forced her bleary eyes open.

And quickly slammed them shut.

So bright.

A small part of her mind that wasn’t busy trying to protect itself from the headache to end all headaches wondered why she was on the couch in the living room.

Why was she there?

Wait.

Why was she home?

The flash of pretty green eyes and a hypnotizing smile broke through the haze.

Oh no.

The sounds of pots hitting pots and cupboards opening and closing prodded the gremlins on in their dastardly deeds. With another groan, Henley rolled over.

Falling off the couch might not be the best way to get up, but her body wasn’t moving right.

Clumsily picking herself up off the floor, Henley blindly stumbled toward the sounds and the alluring smell of coffee. 

Nearly breaking her still aching neck only twice, she made it to the kitchen doorway. Leaning heavily against the wall, she took in the scene before her.

Scylla leaned up against the counter, steaming mug of what had to be tea in her grasp as she rolled her eyes at her wife. Raelle was puttering around the kitchen, making a show of opening and closing every drawer and cupboard she came into contact with. 

Raelle spotted her first, spinning around with a spatula in hand. She gleefully pointed it at her daughter, shouting so loud Henley grimaced, “Look who it is! Good morning, sunshine! How’s the head? Come on in, I’m making everything we have for breakfast; you must be starvin’.”

Henley choked as she pushed down the bile that churned in her belly at the thought of food. 

Raelle shrugged smugly, “Worked up quite the appetite _walking all the way across town in the middle of the night for a flashlight to pick flowers when you were_ _supposed to be studyin_.’”

“Sounds familiar.” Scylla murmured into her tea.

Raelle ignored her.

Henley muttered a string of sounds that almost formed words as she fell into a chair at the kitchen table. Her arms immediately collapsed on top of the table, and she pressed her head against the cool surface.

“Hey, Scyl, what do you think? A couple miles, at least, right?” Raelle glanced at the older brunette.

“I hate you.” Henley grumbled. “I’m dying.”

Raelle chuckled, “Ah, dying for love. Poetic. Byron will be so happy when he hears about this.”

“That’s enough.” Scylla sighed. She snagged a glass from a nearby cupboard and filled it with crystal clear water from the pitcher. She ambled over to the table, taking a seat next to her daughter. She tenderly ran her fingers through dark hair, soothing the younger woman with a light comforting touch, “Your momma is upset because she wanted to be the one to get you drunk first.” She glanced at the blonde, “Be nice to your _dying_ daughter, Rae.”

Raelle fiddled with the spatula, “My pop did the same thing to me my first time.”

“You got drunk on moonshine and nearly burned your house down because you wanted to roast marshmallows under the stars. Your dad tried to teach you a lesson, which you clearly never learned.” Scylla set the glass in front of Henley, “Take small sips, Hen.”

“We aren’t teaching a lesson right now?”

Henley didn’t see her mom look at her momma, but she felt it. Feebly, the youngest witch reached for the glass, cradling it gently and taking tiny sips of the cool liquid.

She wanted to both vomit and guzzle the entire glass in one gulp.

Scylla brushed stray sweaty strands from Henley's face, “Your momma is being an idiot and is upset the goddess is showing her what I’ve had to deal with for the last twenty five years.”

“Twenty six.” Raelle corrected.

“She also doesn’t know her anniversaries.” 

“I know our anniversary.”

“Raelle, I love you, but you think every day of our marriage is an anniversary.”

“Because it is,” Raelle strolled over, leaning down to press a quick kiss to the top of Scylla’s head, “Another day with that ring on your finger or you in my bed is another day in the books.”

Scylla sighed, but her smile was soft and she reached out, catching Raelle’s wrist as she walked by and giving it a soft squeeze, “That’s not how it works, honey.”

Raelle shrugged, “My first marriage, I’m still learning the ropes.”

“I’m sure your second wife will appreciate it.”

“You think so?”

“Be sure to let her know you pretend every day is your anniversary because you can’t remember when the actual anniversary is.”

“I know when our anniversary is!”

She did. Raelle Collar was many things, and a not so secret hopeless romantic was one of them. If she happened to observe multiple anniversaries, including when they got together as kids at Fort Salem and when they went on their second first date, along with when they got married, Scylla learned to go with it.

Henley squinted at them, her chest warm at the sight of her parents still getting along after all these years. But, also, they were so loud. She dug her head into her arms, desperate for some peace and quiet.

“She dead yet?” asked Raelle.

“Remember,” Scylla smirked at the blonde, “this is not from my side of the family. It’s about time you experienced a grumpy Collar hangover.”

“Ramshorn-Collar,” Raelle absently corrected, “And, I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about, Scyl.”

“No? Must have been my other girlfriend who turned into a cuddly frowny teddy bear the morning after drinking when we were younger. I’ll have to ask Tally and Glory about whatever happened to her.” 

“Can’t keep track of your mistresses, Scyl?”

“What’s the name of the running path at Fort Salem? The one the first years take each year? From one barracks to another? I think it’s by the parade ground you tore up to make a grass ring.”

“I feel you don’t appreciate your engagement ring”

“I feel you propositioned me in front of my entire barracks after nearly breaking my window.”

“Your window was so high up.” Raelle mumbled. 

Henley frowned, squeezing her eyes shut, “It’s so bright, Mom.” She hated the sun. So much.

“I know, Hen.” Scylla rubbed her back, “Little secret - when you become Necro, you can hide in the basement and not have to deal with the sun.” Her eyes glinted, “And, there are plenty of opportunities outside of Fort Salem as well for Necros, if you choose not to go.” A familiar statement Henley grew up with. Because Scylla and Raelle had agreed Henley could choose whether or not she wanted to join, Abigail and her first birthday army onesie be damned.

“You mean when she becomes a Fixer.” Raelle called back, a pan clattering against the stovetop.

“Rae, you’re good with your hands, but you’re not that good. She has Necro genetics.”

“These hands did just fine knocking you up.”

Henley would have gagged if she wasn’t already too busy trying not to gag.

Scylla shot her partner an unimpressed look.

Raelle shrugged, grin all teeth and love with a touch of sheepishness, “She might have gotten all the good looks from you, but that’s Collar blood in her. Fixer blood.”

Scylla shook her head, taking the final sip of her tea. She carefully set the mug down and pushed dark brown locks that would lighten in the summer behind Henley’s ear, “This close to death, I’d say there’s Necro in her.”

“Seriously?” Henley muttered. 

“Drink some more water, Henley.” Scylla ordered gently. 

Raelle nodded at the empty mug near Scylla, “More tea?”

Scylla shook her head, “Last bag.”

“I can go get some. Store should be open, and it’s only a few minutes away.”

“You don’t have to go because of me.”

“I like doing everything because of you.” her voice lowered to an adoring rumble.

Scylla smiled at her, “I’d like that.”

Henley knew they were sharing ’dopey idiots in love’ smiles, as her Aunt Abigail termed it.

“How about you go, and Henley can take a shower. We will all head out when you get back.” Scylla stood up, grasping her daughter’s arm and carefully guiding her to her feet.

“Head out where?” Henley asked, not liking being upright.

Scylla smirked, “The flowers are still there in the field waiting to be picked, and you don’t have to worry about a flashlight now.”

Henley felt the floor drop out from underneath her, “Uh…”

Scylla patted her shoulder, “You never break a promise to a girl, whether it’s flowers or something else.”

“Listen to your mom, Hen. Words of wisdom, right there.” Raelle nodded, already heading out of the kitchen, “We’re also low on bread and eggs. I’ll grab some. Anything else?”

“Garbage bags.” Scylla replied.

“Got it. Oh, and which mushrooms does Henley like, again? For dinner tonight.”

“Please, no.” Henley felt another wave of nausea roll through her.

“I’ll pick some from the garden.” Scylla replied.

Raelle shook her head playfully, “Who has a mushroom garden? So weird.”

“Oh?”

“But sexy weird.” A wink, “I like it.”

"You better. You married it.” She flashed her ring.

“Damn right I did.” 

Scylla rolled her eyes, “Go, before you forget what you need to grab. Should I write you a list?”

“I can remember things.”

“When is our anniversary?”

“Every day I wake up with you in my bed.” Raelle began to walk.

Raelle was halfway toward the door before she quickly spun around and jogged back into the kitchen, “Almost forgot.” She rushed up to Scylla and cupped her chin with her thumb and forefinger, pulling her in for a quick kiss, “Bye, Scyl.”

Scylla rolled her eyes but gave her another quick kiss, “Be safe.”

“Always.” she caressed her chin with the pad of her thumb before letting go. With a crisp about face, she was out of the kitchen.

The sounds of footsteps clacked and within a few seconds the crack of the front door opening sounded.

“Keys, Rae!” “Keys, Momma!” 

A muted, “Damn it.” was followed by more footsteps, the jangle of keys, and finally the closing of the front door.

Henley leaned into her mom, tucking her head into her collarbone, “I feel awful.”

“A shower will help.” Scylla ran her hand up and down her spine, “You're still telling me all about this girl, though.”

“Mom.” Henley whined, cheeks turning pink.

“Henley, you scared us last night.” Scylla spoke firmly, “You were wandering around alone late at night. It’s dangerous.”

Henley huffed but didn’t argue.

“I know you think you can take care of yourself, but you were drunk, and you’re still young. We are sitting down later and talking about that.” Scylla kissed her temple.

“Fine.”

“And ever since you started taking after your momma, I have waited your entire life to see Raelle have to deal with you falling in love, so don’t think you’re getting out of this.”

“I’m not,” she blushed harder, “in love.”

“Sweetie, you were breaking into your own house so you could pick her flowers. I know a Ramshorn-Collar in love when I see it.”

“We just met.”

“Sometimes that’s all it takes. I remember the first time I met your momma.”

Henley exhaled loudly, “Are you going to tell Aunt Abigail and Aunt Tally?”

“Do you really believe your momma hasn’t bragged to everyone she knows about this already?”

“Kill me, now.”

“Not until after you introduce us to your girlfriend.” Scylla patted her shoulder, “Go shower. You smell terrible.”

Henley took a step, then paused, “Mom?”

“Yes, Henley?”

“I haven’t even asked her out, yet.”

Scylla smiled at her, “Hen, trust me. That girl is already charmed. Say the words, and she’ll agree to a date.”

“You think so?”

“Worked for your momma.”

“Twenty six years, right?”

Scylla pointed toward the stairs, “Go shower.”


End file.
